My Darling, What Wonder
by acaelousqueadcentrum
Summary: A pregnancy test. Post-"Heart to Heart." Pre-"Loving You a Little More Every Minute." (This is a gift for halfrobotchicken / Baxley McTedders.)


Her wife was driving her crazy.

Her wife was driving her crazy, her period was due in three days, and Gail was pretty fucking sure she was pregnant.

This time, this time it worked. This time she was pregnant.

It just—she just—felt different.

Fuller, maybe. Weightier, settled, rooted.

Or maybe it was just her heart wanting it to be true, wanting to be able to go to Holly and put that special, beautiful smile on her wife's face.

But still, she found her hands wandering lately, when she was in the shower or getting dressed. Wandering and coming to rest over the flat plane of her womb.

She hadn't felt like this for either of their first attempts at getting pregnant. She hadn't felt different at all, and when her period came she'd mostly just shrugged it off. There was no way she could have known that she wasn't pregnant those times, not consciously, but honestly, she'd never thought she was, never sat down with awe in her eyes and hope in her heart and felt the love and the possibility of new life shimmer down her spine.

But this time.

This time was different. From the very start, this time was special. From the long quiet moments Holly'd held her in bed after disposing of the specimen cup and the gloves. With every day that passed Gail could see the hope in Holly's eyes growing, and every look the brunette gave her was full of anticipation, full of dreams.

It was driving Gail crazy, because even though she knew, she _knew_ she was pregnant this time …

… what if she was wrong. What if her period came on Thursday just like it was scheduled to?

What if it was late, like last month, and they got their hopes up even higher?

What if she had to go to Holly and shake her head?

What if she had to take away the wishes and love in her wife's eyes?

What if she had to watch Holly's happy smile fade, watch the brunette pretend that she was okay with the disappointment again?

Gail couldn't do it. It was too much to ask.

She just couldn't.

And so she was breaking a promise. A promise she and Holly had made when they started the whole process, way back in the beginning. When a baby was just an idea, when Holly was going to be the pregnant one, when all Gail had to do was watch and wait.

They'd promised that no matter what happened, they'd be in it together. Always. For every step.

And so far they had been.

Every appointment, every decision, everything.

They'd done it all together.

Until today.

Today Gail sat alone in a stall of the women's locker room at the 15, counting down seconds with the timer on her phone, mind racing with thoughts.

It wasn't too late, she hadn't looked yet. She could throw the test away, go home and watch television with her wife, and wait to see if her period started. And Holly would never have to know, would never have to know about how Gail snuck off during her lunch hour to buy a test from a corner convenience store. Wouldn't have to know how she'd felt the small package burning a hole in the inner pocket of her jacket the rest of the afternoon, or how every time she'd replied to one of her wife's texts, she'd done so with the flush of guilt creeping over her face.

Dov, thank God, had been oblivious to her turmoil.

Had she been partnered with someone a little more aware, Chloe, say, the whole day would have been much, much worse.

Gail looked down at her phone.

Six seconds to go.

There was still time.

She didn't have to look.

But that was a lie, and Gail knew it.

She had to look, she had to know. She had to know so she could figure out how to break the news to her wife, so she could soften the blow if there was another disappointment.

Her phone buzzed, and Gail closed her eyes, taking one last breath.

* * *

Holly was antsy.

She'd deny it if anyone called her on it, but it was true.

Normally calm and collected, she'd been growing more and more anxious every day. As they got closer and closer to that red dot on the calendar she kept on her bedside table, she found herself filled with a sort of nervous energy. The kind that had her jostling her knee as she sat at her desk, reviewing reports from her crew of new interns. The kind that had her unconsciously tapping her fingers on whatever flat surface she found herself at, that had her running two or three or four miles more than usual on her morning runs.

She knew that her anxiousness has been freaking Gail out, worrying her wife.

But she can't help it.

She'd been fine when the first attempt had failed.

She'd been okay when the second had as well.

But the latest attempt, the latest attempt felt different.

Special.

They'd made love slowly, delicately, and she'd brought her wife to a powerful orgasm that left Gail quivering before reaching over to the towel she had arranged everything on.

And then, as Holly was about to depress the syringe inside her wife, she looked down into Gail's clear blue eyes, still dark with pleasure. Gail's eyes had been soft and loving. Tender.

Holly felt her heart trip and swell with love. And so, as she placed a stabilizing hand gently atop her wife's belly, she leaned down to capture Gail's lips, thumbing the plunger on the syringe held tight within Gail's still-quaking sex. She poured everything she felt into that kiss, all her love for her beautiful wife, all her hopes and dreams for the child they were creating.

She'd kept the connection between them even as she pulled the instrument out and discarded it onto the towel next to them, kissing Gail deeply and letting their tongues mingle together lazily.

And then because she could, because she was so in love and because Gail was looking up at her with such faith and trust in her expression, Holly trailed her hand back down Gail's body to find the blonde's hooded, swollen clit. A few swipes of her thumb, a few hard, firm circles against Gail's wetness and the blonde was coming again, unconsciously biting at Holly's bottom lip before throwing her head back against the pillow, a quiet whimper escaping from her throat.

Holly watched as Gail rode out the aftershocks of her sweeter second orgasm, she felt consumed by the sheer depths of the love she had for this woman, how it burned in every line and curve of her body. And she kissed her wife again, on the forehead, on the cheek, on the corner of Gail's mouth. And then, as Gail turned toward her, Holly whispered "I love you" softly, and joined their lips again in a sweet kiss.

This time, she knew, it would work.

And she was almost as terrified as she was hopeful.

Because the reality is, Holly had never expected to be a mother.

She'd written off those dreams years ago, boxed them away at the bottom of her heart, afraid that the opportunity would never come. Afraid that gay meant that she'd have to give up those kinds of wishes, that kind of future. It's not like she didn't want kids and family and the whole thing. She did. Deep, deep down, she did. But what if she never found someone to want those things with? And how could she even consider bringing a child into a world that seemed so hostile to who she was and how she loved?

So Holly had talked herself out of the wanting, had dug holes into herself and buried thoughts of love and home and children. Instead she focused on her studies, and then her work. She dedicated herself to being the best, and left little time in her life for anything else. Here or there, a woman would enter her life and then, sooner, rather than later, would leave again. Holly enjoyed the relationships while they lasted, and got over them as soon as they were done.

And then came Gail.

And Gail changed everything.

All of a sudden Holly found herself thinking things she could swear she'd let go of years ago. Dreams of permanence, of building a home with someone, of starting a family. Even during those terrible weeks when she and Gail had been broken up, she couldn't stop thinking about Gail, Gail and home, Gail and children, Gail and a future that Holly had never thought was possible. So when she and the blonde with the leather jacket and the dangerous swagger got back together, Holly made sure Gail knew that what was happening between them was real for her, was serious and intense and the beginning of the rest of their lives.

And when that didn't scare Gail away, when that made Gail kiss her back all the stronger, all the fiercer, Holly finally began to let herself dream again.

* * *

The nerves were making Gail queasy. The nerves and the fear.

Because she knew now, she knew and Holly didn't. And she wasn't sure how Holly would react to the news that Gail had betrayed her trust. Because that's what she'd done.

They'd had an understanding, they'd made a promise.

And then Gail had gone and broken it.

At first she'd planned on keeping it to herself, what she'd done. She thought she could keep it to herself. But the moment she saw her wife she knew she couldn't. They talked, the foundation of their relationship was communication. And even if she'd done something wrong, which she had, she couldn't stop talking to her wife now.

Especially not now.

She had hoped to find her wife in the small, windowless office where Holly did her paperwork, but the room was empty. Instead, she found the doctor in the morgue, in the middle of an autopsy.

Holly looked up from the chest cavity she was examining when she heard the big double doors of the exam room swing open.

"Hey," she said, seeing her favorite visitor, "I'm running a little late. Traci caught a homicide and asked me to rush the autopsy for her, if you want to go home I can just catch a cab when I'm done."

But Gail couldn't say anything. She felt the sour taste of guilt in the back of her throat. And then her wife was looking at her, a heart literally in her hands, and Gail felt the words rising out of her before she could even try to stop them.

She took a step forward, just one, and then whispered her wife's name.

"Hol—" she said again, a little louder, before the tears started to fall.

"Gail, honey, are you okay? What happened?" Holly asked, wanting to put down the organ in her hands and walk over to wrap her wife up in her arms. But a combination of fear and professionalism kept her rooted in place. "Is it," she started, thoughts at what could have upset Gail sparking in her thoughts, "did you … did your period start?"

When Gail didn't respond immediately, when she wouldn't even meet her wife's eyes, Holly started to put down the late Mr. Watt's heart. She was so focused on not being disappointed, on reassuring her wife that at first she didn't hear Gail speak.

"It's okay, Gail, we'll try again," Holly babbled as she started to strip off her gloves, "Maybe we should take a break for a month. Or we can go talk to the doctor and ask—"

"—I'm pregnant, Holly."

Her wife froze, gloves half on, half off.

"I'm pregnant," Gail said for a third time, "I know we were going to wait to find out, but I needed to know because you—"

But Holly interrupted her. "You're pregnant," she said in awe, almost like she couldn't believe it, like she hadn't been there for every step of the way.

Gail nodded her head, her eyes wet and wide.

"I'm sorry," she said, "Holly, I'm so sorry. I know you wanted to be there. I just, Holly, you've been so nervous, and I thought if it was going to be negative, I could soften the blow and…"

The blonde trailed off, uncertain of the emotions passing over her wife's face.

"Holly," she said quietly, "how mad are you?"

The doctor tilted her head as though she didn't understand the question.

"Mad," she asked.

"That I took the test without you," Gail clarified.

Holly started to laugh, great big guffaws that shook her whole body.

"Gail, you just told me you were pregnant while I was in the middle of an autopsy," she paused to let that sink in before continuing, "the only thing I'm mad about is that I'm covered in blood and evidence and can't touch you like I want to."

The absurdity of what she had done hit Gail then, how she'd told her wife they were going to be mothers over a cadavar on an autopsy table.

It would be quite the story someday, something to laugh over in the years and decades to come.

In a way, she thought to herself, it was almost fitting.

She'd started down the long fall toward love in this very room, over a pile of bones on this very table.

And now they're here, on the edge of a whole new chapter.

It might not be perfect, Gail knew, and maybe it was a little weird.

But weird had turned out pretty good for her so far.

Weird worked.


End file.
